


In Unequal Measure

by Writegirl



Category: Doom (2005), Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Family, Gen, Late Night Conversations, Missing Scene, Post Star Trek: Into Darkness, Reaper!Bones, Secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-26
Updated: 2013-05-26
Packaged: 2017-12-13 00:24:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/817781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writegirl/pseuds/Writegirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the dust settles Dr. McCoy has a conversation with John Harrison at Starfleet Command.</p>
<p>
  <i>Starfleet had to maintain the shining perfection of their ideal. The news would make no mention of his being held hostage to their whims for over a year with his comrades, his <b>family</b>, held as insurance for his continued servitude.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Unequal Measure

**Author's Note:**

> This story has some continuity with another Trek fic of mine [ War Wounds ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/812963)but can be read as a stand alone. It is also a Reaper!Bones fic, so some familiarity with the Doom movie would be helpful.

        It was strange still, this world he found himself in.

        Khan sat against the wall of his cell, legs crossed in a pose of meditation. The humans were trying to decide what to do with him, he knew. His cell was much like the one on the Enterprise: white shining walls and a single cot bolted to the floor. The cell itself cut off from the rest of the room by transparent aluminum. He shifted position, and four pairs of eyes swung to him. The guards were ordered to kill him if he attempted to escape, something that was an impossibility in any case. There was only one way into or out of the cell, and that required a teleporter. He gave each man a single, blank look before closing his eyes again. He wasn’t allowed to converse with his captors. The two-way communication to his cell was turned off after Admiral Nakamura informed him of his status. The human was smug in his victory, safe from retaliation and no doubt brimming with joy over the concept of reporting to Earth that the madman, the villain, was in custody.

        Starfleet would never admit to its part in his crimes. They had to maintain the shining perfection of their ideal. Starfleet was a civilian enterprise designed for exploration and advancement, their weapons only used in defense of their lives. The populace at large and most of Starfleet itself was unaware of Section 31, of the things it did in Starfleet’s name. There would be no mention of Admiral Marcus attempting to start a war with the Klingons. No news of his being held hostage to their whims for over a year with his comrades, his _family_ , held as insurance for his continued servitude. 

        These humans, these people who emerged from the rubble of their own destruction were different from the ones that created him. If his old masters managed to catch him he would have been summarily executed without benefit of trial, and no matter how much it might wish otherwise Starfleet could not afford a trial. Trials were matters of public record and the secrets he could tell, _would_ tell, would paint them the villains they were. Even he, at the height of his power, did not play with those under his control as they played him. He could hear Admiral Marcus clearly in memory; hear his last message before Khan began his war.

        _What we agreed to was simple: their lives for your cooperation. It’s a shame you couldn’t keep your end._

        Khan opened his eyes. The guards were gone, the antechamber empty. It seemed Starfleet came to a decision. He could not stand trial, and their reluctance to kill him lasted longer than he thought. He wondered what method they would use to end his life. Section 31 spent an inordinate amount of time attempting to experiment on him in those first weeks, cataloguing his few weaknesses, and they would be the ones to carry out his sentence. It was their duty to carry out the orders Starfleet found distasteful. He imagined a gas would be the safest method for them: pumped into his air supply to kill him without getting their hands dirty. He took a deep breath to spite them, but felt no different.

        When the doors to the antechamber opened the last person he expected entered. The man walked to his cell and pressed a small button. Immediately the sound of the other man’s heartbeat flooded his cell.

        “Doctor McCoy,” he drawled, curiosity tingeing his words. “How fares your captain?”

        The man stared at him. He was no longer dressed in his uniform. The pants and trousers he wore were black, without rank or insignia. “Khan.”

        Did he expect to find him broken in his captivity? Cowed? Section 31 held him in a cell much smaller than this before he agreed to their terms. “Do you require another sample of my blood, doctor?” he asked, walking until he stood inches from the barrier. “Though it would do you no good. If your captain has yet to recover, he never will.”

        McCoy’s hand hit the transparent barrier with a heavy thud that rattled the thick metal in its casing. Khan narrowed his eyes. No ordinary human should have been able to strike with that kind of force. His eyes widened with the possibility of the truth.

        McCoy cocked an eyebrow at his momentary confusion. “Yeah.” He left his hand where it struck for a moment before stepping back. 

        Khan’s eyes flicked to the corners of the room, where cameras recorded his every move. “Are you certain this is wise, doctor? Surely Starfleet would be concerned knowing another of my kind roamed their planet freely.”

        “Someone’s taking care of that.” The doctor crossed his arms. “And I’m not your kind.”

        “Not one of my crew, no. But one like us.” Excitement sparked in his chest as he examined the man with new eyes. He believed his family to be the last. “How long have you survived among the humans?” Something flickered in the other man’s eyes, something dark and painful and he looked away. Khan refused to break eye contact, following his gaze. “So many of us were hunted down after the wars,” his voice was filled with pity. In the last days, before the nuclear war, the price on the heads of his people skyrocketed. Even now Augments were forbidden on Earth and its colonies. “We believed the only way to survive was to leave humanity to its fate. And yet, here you stand.”

        The doctor’s gaze returned to his. “You tried to kill my friends.”

        Rage burst through him. “You _did_ kill mine.”

        “You started it.”

        “And you survived.”

        “Not all of us.”

        Khan smiled. “Is that why you’re here? To exact your revenge?” He stepped back and opened his arms. “Here I am, though I’m afraid the door to my cell cannot be opened.” Fire sparked in the other man’s eyes and there, there was the superior being. Fire and fury enough to destroy cities, so much a match for his own. “Temper, doctor. We wouldn’t want your friends to discover your secret.”

        The fury lessened to a smolder, but refused to dissipate entirely. “I forgot how much of an asshole your kind was. Always harping on how superior you were, how everyone had to bow down before your better judgment.” He took a step forward. “Where was your better judgment when you refused to take your crew and run? The Enterprise was dead in the water. She couldn’t fight, she couldn’t chase after you. All you had to do was take your shiny new ship and head off into space with your precious fucking crew.” As the doctor spoke his accent faded, his voice deepened. “But you wouldn’t do that, would you? Spock knew it. You couldn’t let us be, so they had to think like you.”

        “Careful, doctor,” Khan warned. “Your mask is slipping.”

        “Reaper.”

        Khan blinked.

        “It’s my name,” the doctor finished. “Or was.”

        “Reaper.” He tasted the word. “As in Grim?” Was it a name, or a call-sign? What kind of man must he have been once, for his people to assign such a moniker? “Why are you here, Reaper? To end my life as you ended theirs?” It would be a relief. He was alone, truly alone for the first time in his existence. His comrades, his crew, the only family he’d ever known, were dead. He would choke on his rage if he could not find vengeance. It would destroy him.

        Something of his emotions must have slipped through his control. The doctor stepped closer to the glass, expression curious. “It wasn’t an act was it, in the holding cell? You really think they’re your family.”

        There was no reason to lie to his own kind. “They are the only family I’ve ever known.”

        “You didn’t plan on surviving the crash.” It wasn’t a question. “You meant to go out in some kamikaze blaze of glory.”

        “A thousand lives for each one taken from me,” he admitted. “An even trade.”

        “Says you,” the other man grumbled. “Spock’s not like us,” Reaper informed him. “Not like you.”

        Something like hope whispered in the back of his mind. “What do you mean?”

        “Those torpedoes were empty. Your crew is still in stasis, have been the whole time.”

        Relief, the likes of which he’d seldom known threatened to buckle Khan’s knees. They lived. “All of them?”

        “Seventy-two souls accounted for.” The southern drawl crept back into his voice. “You’re welcome.” McCoy came forward, hand poised to turn off the comm.

        “Reaper, wait!” The man’s shoulders hunched, but he stopped. “What will happen to my crew?” Would Starfleet dispose of them like Marcus planned? End the possible threat before it could manifest itself again?

        “The order came down from command. You’re going back on ice, and they plan for you to stay that way. Until stars burn out for all I care.” 

        They stared at one another for a long moment. The other man was a doctor now but Khan could see the soldier in him in the set of his shoulders. The man before him was a mystery. An augment who sided with humans against his own kind. That survived for nearly three hundred years alone in hostile territory. He would have thought it impossible, but the proof was before him. “We will meet again,” Khan informed him. 

        Reaper sized him up. “For your sake, you’d better hope not.” He flicked the comm off.

        The man turned and walked away. It was fascinating, watching him slip back into his façade: the tension in his shoulders melted away, the line of his body softened as the length of his strides lessened. By the time the double doors of the antechamber slid open there was nothing of the soldier he was speaking to moments before.

        Khan returned to his bed as new guards entered the antechamber. _For your sake,_ Reaper said. He leaned back against the wall, the barest of smiles tilting his lips.

* * *

        Leonard waited until the doors closed behind him to stop walking. He breathed in, held that breath, and released it slowly. Talking to Khan was hard, a reminder of what could have been. Would he have been like that, had he been a little younger when he was infected? Would he have bought into the superiority schtick if a doctor came back from Mars with the serum and injected him in some sterile lab?

        He turned down a narrow hall. Behind him he could hear the guards returning to the holding area. He passed through two unmanned check points and a series of elevators before he came to an area of Starfleet Command that was inhabited. It was the middle of the night, but Command rarely shut down entirely. The men and women in uniform were going about their regular duties unaware of the madman below them. 

        “Dr. McCoy.”

        He half turned. A tall, grey-haired woman strode towards him, her pips marking her as an Admiral. He started walking to the exit. “I take it your business is concluded?” She asked as she kept pace with him.

        “Yeah. Thanks for that.”

        “And Captain Kirk? I understand he’s going to make a full recovery. Miraculous, even.” There was a hint of amusement in her tone.

        “Medical science advances more and more every day, admiral.”

        She stopped. “Dad.”

        The word was so soft he barely heard it. Leonard forced himself to stop walking and turn around, to take her in.

        There were more lines around her eyes and mouth, and he wished they were from smiling instead of frowning. The hair nearer her temples was going white, while iron-grey overtook the rest of the rich brown. Her eyes were mahogany starting to muddy with age, her frame still strong, but there was frailty there. Humans may have learned how to slow down time, but they hadn’t mastered stopping it. Not yet.

        They were in the middle of Starfleet Command, he had to remember that. “Thanks,” he said again. “I mean it.”

        “We’ll take good care of all of them,” her voice was matter-of-fact. “I’ve already made arrangements for their transport and storage. And word of the captain’s death was greatly exaggerated. According to the official report Commander Spock was able to get him to sickbay in time for you to halt the radiation damage.”

        He stepped closer and raised his hand, cupping her cheek. Her hand rose to cradle his. He noticed two people slowing down as they went past, but he didn’t care. Let the gossips think what they would. “You make your old man proud, you know that, pumpkin?”

        She smiled at him, and he could see the little girl he adopted decades ago staring back at him. “You big softie.” She pushed at his shoulder. “Don’t you have patients to look after?”

        He thought for a moment. “You know what, Joanna? I’m thinking I should take a night off. Go out, see the town.” He held out his arm. 

        She raised an eyebrow. “What happened to ‘I’ll rest when I’m dead’?”

        He shrugged. “Came close enough, the last two weeks.” He glanced at his arm. “It’s rude to leave a man hanging.”

        She wrapped an arm around his. “One drink. That’s it, Dr. McCoy.”

        He smiled for the first time in two weeks. “We’ll see, Admiral.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed ^_^
> 
> I always wondered why we never see McCoy's daughter in the series, so I made up my own reason.


End file.
